


touch every star

by occasionalfics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cinderella Alterenate Universe, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionalfics/pseuds/occasionalfics
Summary: Overworked and underpaid, she spends way too many nights being the last person in the Stark Industries Accounting office. Then one night, she meets a stranger in an elevator by chance, and things slowly start to change.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Maria Hill/Sam Wilson, Reader/Natasha Romanov, Reader/Wanda Maximoff, Thor/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on Tumblr @ occasionalfics
> 
> People seemed to like this on Tumblr so I figured, why not post here too?

She couldn’t believe she’d done it. After a full day of itemized lists of tasks way out of her paygrade, she’d finally finished them all. The blisters on her heels from her uncomfortable but required shoes would serve as a reminder that, for once, she’d managed to meet her boss’s ridiculous standards to a T.

Mr. Sitwell, the head of Accounting, was a ruthless, selfish man that everyone had warned Y/N about before she’d taken the job, but it paid more than the entry level HR job she’d taken when she’d first started. Four months later and, for the first time, she’d finally finished a list Sitwell had given her during work hours.

Only, when she looked at the clock on her desk, she realised that it definitely was  _ not _ work hours. Well past 8pm. The office was dark and deserted except for her and the rustling of paperwork on her desk - her  _ secretarial  _ desk - was the only noise now that she stood still.

“Fuck,” she muttered, shutting her eyes. “God- Fuck that guy.”

When she opened her eyes, she looked up at Sitwell’s office. The door was closed, the lights shut off, even his computer was off for the night. Y/N was the last one in the office and she hadn’t even noticed. Three hours had gone by since she’d spoken to a human. Three hours of time she was sure Sitwell was going to dock her for.

She’d started working at Stark Industries because she’d heard Mr. Stark offered great benefits to his employees, and while she was technically one of them, Jasper Sitwell was directly above her. He was the worst kind of middleman, and to add insult to injury, he was the worst kind of boss.

His words echoed in her head as she thought about going higher, letting someone from her old department about his mistreatment.

_ I might not be Stark rich, but I have money. I have power. I have more here than you’ll ever have. I’d watch who you speak to if I were you _ .

Maybe she didn’t have an amazing job or a high position, but she had money she needed to support herself. She couldn’t do anything, at that moment, to risk the job and lose her income.

She was  _ not _ going to move back home.

And rent was  _ so  _ god damn expensive.

Pursing her lips, she sighed to herself before gathering the papers on her desk into one pile. None of it was going home with her, now that she’d finished it all. She’d divy it up in the morning and give it to the right people when she could think straight again.

She pulled the strap of her purse up onto her shoulder and left the office, making sure to put in Sitwell’s code to lock it up.

The building was eerily silent around her. There were hundreds of offices from lobby to penthouse, and yet, the loudest sounds Y/N picked up on all came from outside. She was left with the horns of cars on the crowded New York streets and not much else as she waited for the elevator.

It wasn’t the first time she’d stayed this late. Just the first time she’d finished the whole list. Hopefully that would mean Sitwell would leave her alone first thing tomorrow morning, or at least acknowledge that she’d done every little thing he’d asked. Not likely, but she could hope anyway.

Somewhere down the hallway, someone moved. Their shadow followed them under the LED lights lining the hallway. Stark Tower wasn’t like most other office buildings she’d been in - instead of harsh fluorescents, every room was lit with either natural light during the day or LED bulbs after the sun went down. Normally, most people were gone before the lights went on.

Not Y/N. Not tonight.

And, apparently, not the person approaching her from down the hall.

They stopped beside her just before the elevator made it to their floor. She looked at them through the corner of her vision.

He was tall. Taller than she was, even in her heels. Taller than Sitwell for sure. And where her boss was bald and wore glasses, this man had perfectly styled dirty blonde hair and small but expressive eyes. She couldn’t see their hue from her position.

“Late night?” she heard herself asking the man. She hadn’t even known she’d had it in her to talk to a stranger after work hours, but apparently, him working on the same floor as her was enough to bridge whatever gap was between them.

He nodded as the elevator doors opened, then he held out an arm to signal he wanted her to go in before him. “Unfortunately, yes,” he said.

His voice was deep, a little tired, but not impolite. He sounded as attractive as he looked, and now that he was coming toward her, she got a better idea of just how handsome he was.

He was...like a God. Gorgeous. Sculpted. In a tan suit just a few shades darker than his golden skin. Eyes as blue as lightning, offset by a crisp white t-shirt under the blazer.

“Me too,” she whispered when he turned to stand next to her. The doors shut and the elevator descended.

They’d gone down a few floors before he turned to face her and asked, “If it’s alright, why’re you here so late?”

She hesitated, mostly because she couldn’t think of a reason as to why it wouldn’t be okay for him to ask. Other than him being a total stranger, of course.

But he was a Stark employee. A high ranking one if she was guessing based on his suit and shoes. He had to be safe, right? At least for a brief elevator ride?

“My boss left me a list of things he needed done  _ today or else _ ,” she said. Anything more might be...too much for tonight. “He’s very particular.”

The man nodded. “Sounds to me like he’s got a stick up his arse.”

She couldn’t not laugh at that, the sound reverberating around the elevator. He smiled, too, as if in reaction to her.

“You’re not wrong,” she told him, fighting not to roll her eyes. When she shifted her bag a bit, she stood taller and said, “It’s only fair that if you got to ask, I do too.”

The dinging of the passing floors was only a mild distraction while the man rolled his neck, stretching his arms up so they didn’t collide with her. “My boss is also a stickler for finishing tasks, it seems. But he, at least, still hasn’t left the building.” He chuckled at that, like she was supposed to be in on some kind of joke at his boss’s expense.

All she did was smile, since she didn’t know who his boss was.

“Bosses suck,” she offered.

He nodded again. “That they do.”

Neither of them thought of anything else to say, apparently. The elevator counted down each floor, and they both stared ahead at the doors, as if they were both suddenly desperate to get out.

She couldn’t say what had shifted between them, but now she felt it was too late to start up another conversation. She could have asked him his name or what office he actually worked in, but something in her head stopped her.

Something like the voice of the narrator on one of those late night crime shows her roommate Nat liked to watch. Some irrational fear that, suddenly, this man would hurt her because the sun was down and she was a lone woman in the great, big world. The voice in her head made her clutch her purse tighter, even though she’d only just been talking to that man like they’d known one another already.

When the elevator came to the lobby, she hurried off first, not even stopping to see if he’d made the same motion he’d made when they’d gotten on. Out of nowhere, her mind was on a single track: to get to the subway and make it home in one piece. The closer she got to the front of the building, the more fidgety she became, which totally prevented her from hearing the man call out to her however he could.

She hadn’t even given him her name. He hadn’t given his, either. And now she was leaving, and sure, maybe they worked on the same floor but he could be  _ anyone _ . He could work in one of at least fifteen different offices on her floor, and with how much work Sitwell gave her every single day, the chances of finding him again were slim to none.

It didn’t matter, and she knew that. She was no one. She was a secretary, some girl from upstate who’d run away from home and stumbled into something so much bigger than herself. And she was alone that night, so her one-track mind was focused on preservation and survival. The map in her head led to one place: home.

\--

Thor had never seen that woman before. He was sure of it. All the balls and galas and S.I. events he’d been to and he had never seen her before. He would’ve remembered her face if he had.

He watched the doors as she scurried out, immediate regret sitting heavy in his stomach. He hadn’t gotten her name, didn’t know who her boss was, hadn’t even seen which office she’d come out of.

He knew what his brother would say:  _ She’s just a girl you met on an elevator. Don’t be a fool _ .

But Loki wasn’t here. And he wasn’t a fool. There was just...something about this girl. Their conversation had been brief, to say the least, but he liked what he’d gotten. And he wanted more.

He made to follow her out the door, but when he stepped onto the still busy street, she was gone. Gone home on a random Wednesday night, no doubt. It was the normal thing to do.

He headed for the subway, taking the stairs slowly into the belly of the city. The early fall air was cool but not cold - not yet - and down here, it was muggy still. Thor pulled his phone and headphones out of his pocket, tuning into a podcast about old dead Pantheons just because he found it interesting. This was one of Loki’s recommendations, and the reminder always made him smile.

Maybe he and his brother didn’t  _ always _ get along, but when they did, it was usually over shared knowledge.

His train ride lasted only a few minutes, and he was grateful there were no stops tonight. He’d had a 13 hour workday; one “emergency” went off after another. As the director of Stark security, Thor had to be present for every one of them, despite most of them not being actual emergencies. But he’d handled them all, paperwork and the like included, with as much patience and strength as he could.

Up until the clock had struck a certain time and he’d realized he’d been working for way too long, was way too hungry, and just happened to be the last person in the office. It had been at that exact moment that the weight of the day had fallen on his shoulders, nearly smothering him against his desk in surprise.

So he’d cleaned up and left and...run into that woman. Stunning, she was. A little easy to spook, maybe, which was only confirmed when she’d stopped talking to him and nearly sprinted out of the building; but otherwise, she was lovely and nice. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head, badgering him because he hadn’t even gotten her name, let alone her contact information.

He trudged up the steps to his street with the thought that he might actually never see that girl again. Stark had way too many employees to go off her physical appearance alone, even if she did work on his floor.

As if she knew she’d been thought of at some point that night, his mother rang him the second he walked through his apartment door. Thor couldn’t help but roll his eyes lightly as he answered the call.

“Hello Mother,” he said, turning on a lamp beside his couch. He went right into the kitchen and opened the fridge, leaning down to glance inside.

“Hello my love,” Frigga said back, just like she always did. “It’s been too long since you last called so I figured I’d check in with you.”

Thor nodded, despite being physically alone. He picked up a package of Havarti cheese that was almost empty and said, “I’m sorry, Mom. Work’s been hectic and-”

“That’s what you  _ always _ say,” she sighed. “I’d say you’re chock full of excuses but you’ve only got the one. At least your brother gets creative from time to time.”

He could hear the smile in her voice, the teasing she usually laid on him coming on thicker than normal. But he knew Loki was closer to their mother than their father, so he knew the dynamic was different and that Frigga would always comment on that, no matter what. It was her duty and her right, she’d say.

“How is Loki, by the way?” Thor asked her, attempting a subject change.

But he knew, as well as anyone that knew Frigga Odinson, that she would not stand for that.

He pulled out a baggie full of whatever leftover cold cuts he had. Knowing he had to use them soon, before they went bad, he put the cheese and meat on the counter, shut the fridge, and got to work on a basic sandwich.

“Absent at the moment,” she answered shortly. “But I called to talk about you. If you want to know more about your brother, call him.”

Again, he chuckled to himself. Her stern but sticky-sweet tone was to be expected.

“Are you just getting home now, dear?” she asked.

“Yes, unfortunately. You called at the perfect time.”

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, “Good. As always.” And then he imagined the smirk falling, because her tone took a sharp turn. “You need to take better care of yourself. How do you ever expect to find a wife if you’re so busy at work all the time?”

“Well, the thing is, Mom-”

“Don’t go giving me the ‘I’m not ready’ speech, dear. You tried that already. Seven years ago. Didn’t work then, won’t work now. You’re the director of that office, you should hire a deputy to take some of the load off of your shoulders!”

He’d love to say he was surprised at her interjecting, but he truly, truly wasn’t. Frigga had practically run a part of her husband’s own company, before he’d sold it and gone into retirement, neither of his sons having been deemed worthy to pass it down to.

Not that Loki or Thor were complaining about that. Thor quite liked the job he’d chosen, thank you very much.

He took a bite out of the hastily made sandwich before saying, “I’d have to have time to go through applications and interviews for that, Mom.”

“Oh, nonsense. Tony Stark hired you and he can hire a deputy to work with you even if you’re unable to attend the interviews.”

Thor sighed. This wasn’t a normal conversation with his mother, but she wasn’t aware of every detail on how he’d gotten his position, and he was too tired to get into it. But he did tell her, “Tony and I are old friends. He had an opening for a position I was qualified for - I barely interviewed because he was aware of my credentials. That doesn’t just happen for everyone.”

“You’d be surprised by how aware of that I am, dear,” his mother said, passive aggressive sarcasm dripping from every syllable. She was growing tired of waiting for grandchildren, and even more so as the seconds of this conversation ticked by. “I’m sure there’s someone that could help you, directly or otherwise. You need some time for yourself, or you’re going to end up alone, unhappy, and unfulfilled like your aunt Freyja.”

On a good day, Frigga wasn’t judgmental like that. Apparently, this was not a good day.

“I’d hardly say Freyja’s unfulfilled, Mom. She owns her own company-”

“She makes lingerie for her Instagram store. I wouldn’t call that fabulously successful.”

Thor had nothing else to say. He wasn’t about to get into an argument with his mother, especially not when she was being rather unreasonable. Maybe she was just having an off night, or perhaps she was feeling a particularly nasty bout of Empty Nesters Syndrome - even after more than a decade of living in a house without her children. Either way, he was not about to let her blame him for whatever it was, but he also wasn’t going to tell her off.

He sighed, finishing off his sandwich easily. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m really exhausted. If I promise to revisit the deputy idea in the near future, could I possibly say goodnight and talk to you later?”

She  _ hrumphed _ , but ultimately ceded. “Yes, of course dear. I love you very much.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She hung up first, as she always did. Thor locked his phone, put what was left of his sandwich supplies away, and headed for his bedroom.

He stripped down, brushed his teeth, and set an alarm for the morning, ignoring the reminder in his head that he didn’t even get that girl’s name before she’d disappeared into New York City. He was in bed before he knew it, and when he shut his eyes, all he saw was her.


	2. Chapter 2

_ You’re cordially invited to Stark Industries’ Annual Christmas Extravaganza/Charity Gala. Donations optional, but appreciated. _

She stared at the email, blinking mindlessly at it for at least three minutes. She’d never been invited to one of these galas before - she figured it was because she was just a secretary and couldn’t afford to make a donation for a charity gala.

But this year, she was on the list. She checked the addresses and CCs and, yup, this email had been personally sent to her. Personally - but most likely from an automated system. Still, hers was the only email listed to be sent to. Someone had put her email in there on purpose (or maybe an accident, but still...she was invited).

She wondered what she’d wear. She didn’t have anything black tie, didn’t have time or money to go shopping. Maybe Nat would have something. Or Wanda, but more than likely, Nat.

She couldn’t go, though. Could she? A secretary from the Accounting offices? Did she mean anything? Enough to be invited to the holiday gala?

Apparently, yes. She knew Nat and Wanda would insist on her going. Her two best friends were kind of like her fairy godmothers. They watched out for her whenever she needed them, encouraged her whenever she felt unsure or insecure, and promised to help her wherever they could. She’d done the same for them, but she was far less well off than they were.

After all, Nat was literally a model and Wanda was making a name for herself as a successful up and coming photographer. Y/N was just a secretary.

As if to remind her of that fact, Jasper Sitwell was suddenly standing in front of her desk. He cleared his throat and glared down at her, one eyebrow raised over the thick rim of his glasses.

“Are you going to sit there motionless all day or are you going to get to work?” he asked.

Man, she hated him. But he’d drilled into her head that he could ruin her with a simple few words. He’d told her nothing if not that he was in charge of her while she was on the clock, and if she didn’t do everything he asked, she’d be out on the street before she could make it to the lobby.

She moved immediately, picking up the papers from the night before to sort through them. “Sorry, Mr. Sitwell,” she muttered, starting piles across her desk for different people throughout the office.

“I saw you stayed late last night,” he said, a little less abrasive but just as cool. “Got everything done?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Sitwell.”

“Good.” She looked up at him in time to see him pull out two sheets of paper, which he placed in her inbound box on the corner of her desk. “I want all of this finished  _ on time _ today.” With that, he walked into his office without so much as a second glance.

She sighed. The list from yesterday had been one page, single spaced, and it had still taken her almost twelve hours to complete. She’d skipped taking a lunch break and ate while she’d worked, too.

She could only imagine how long this list would take. But first, she still had to sort through the papers from last night and deliver them correctly.

\--

Thor had taken bits of pieces of his conversation with Frigga to heart. Just the parts that weren’t directly set up to make him feel guilty for having a high-energy, fast-paced job.

He knew he had to take care of himself. Better care, anyway. He knew he couldn’t sustain twelve and thirteen-hour workdays forever. And, as annoying as Frigga’s nagging about him starting a family was, he did  _ want _ to start a family. 

He wanted a partner he could come home to, in all senses of the word. Someone kind and generous, that he could care for as much as they cared for him. A true partner. As much as he respected his parents’ relationship, he didn’t want what they had. He wanted something  _ better _ .

And as he thought on that, his mind drifted to the girl from last night. It was silly of him to imagine her in that spot, given he literally didn’t even know her name, but he couldn’t help himself. Thor’d always been something of a Romantic - even in his college Frat years, he’d imagined a future with a real human, whereas most of his Brothers just wanted easy lays and Trophy Wives.

Loki had always poked his side for stuff like that. But Loki was Loki, and it was hard to know exactly what  _ his _ idea of a perfect home might be one day.

Thor was thinking of that girl when Tony Stark himself made an appearance in his office. Normally, Tony called people to him, not the other way around, but they both knew Thor was a special circumstance. They were part of a little group of directors and executives - friends, really - so it wasn’t so much of a surprise to Thor that Tony was interrupting his daydream with a pristine white envelope.

“Most people got invites through their email, so appreciate my efforts to come down here. But this year, thanks to Steve,  _ everyone _ is invited.”

Thor smiled and took the envelope, and despite knowing what was inside, opened it. The annual holiday gala was always a charity event, so usually it was their little group and the board of directors mingling with some celebrities and the like. People with lots of money. Not because Tony didn’t appreciate every one of his employees, really, though Thor didn’t know why this was the  **first** year everyone in the company was included.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Thor said. “Steve’s got some good ideas, you know.”

Tony completely ignored that. He perched himself on one of the chairs facing Thor’s desk and, in his cool and unaffected tone, asked, “So you gonna bring someone? It’s a masquerade this year, you know. Gotta bring a hot date and lose her in the crowd or...some such nonsense.”

He laughed at that, but shook his head. “You know I’m not seeing anyone this year.”

“Oh good because, with so many new people there, you’ll be just single enough to pick someone up.” 

“You’re as bad as my mother,” Thor said. “Did you know that?”

Tony gave him one of those half-smiles, like he’d expected Thor to say as much. “You’re not the first to say so, believe it or not. That I sound like  _ your  _ mother.”

They laughed together, and it took Thor a moment to realize how long it’d been since he’d seen his friends. Too long. They were all busy people but they all worked at the same company, for the same man who was in their group and sitting directly across from him at that very moment.

A gala would be nice. And maybe Tony was right.

After all, if everyone was invited, maybe Elevator Girl would show up. The only problem was that he didn’t know anything about her except that she worked on his floor and that he could recall what she looked like. A mask - kind of required for a masquerade - would make it that much harder for him to find her.

Tony sighed. “Anyway. I’m sure you’re busy - what’d you call it? - ‘protecting our asses’ and all, so I’ll leave you to it. Maybe one day this week we’ll do lunch.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, and Thor hesitantly nodded.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have my people call your people.”

And with that, he was gone.

\--

She managed to finish before six, but well after five. The list was complete - thankfully, most of the tasks Sitwell had left were short or easy to do - and the office was empty, so she sighed and slipped her heels off. The blisters were worse today, but she’d thought ahead and brought a pair of plain flats to change into for the walk/ride home.

As she came up to the elevator, she couldn’t help but look from one end of the hall to the other. There were more people around than the night before, but not the man she was looking for.

The man from last night.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t be thinking about him. She didn’t know anything about him, other than he took the elevator from her floor. Once.

But he’d been nice last night, and he hadn’t done anything at all to warrant her running. If anything, she wanted to be able to apologize for scampering away like a deer in headlights because it hadn’t been polite. Even if she didn’t owe him an explanation, she wanted the chance to give one anyway.

He didn’t show, though. She figured he’d already gone home or something, because the elevator doors opened and no one stepped out onto her floor or anything. The four people already on the elevator looked at her expectantly, so she got on and turned to face the doors without a word.

No one attempted conversation. Hardly anyone moved. Two more people squeezed in before they hit the lobby, then everyone rushed out and onto the street.

Her ride home was just as lonely. No one on MTA ever stopped to talk, except the buskers and musicians that, at least tonight, avoided her car. 

She shouldn’t have taken it personally. No one ever talked to her on the subway because it was New York - everyone kept to themselves and that was how the city worked. She’d never thought twice about it, but something about missing that man - the dashingly handsome man she’d spent all of ten minutes with  _ tops _ \- made her feel heavy as she stepped up onto the street again.

She bit her tongue as she turned a corner to head up her block. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. It was stupid to cry over nothing like this. If she were upset about Sitwell or something, she’d let herself do it, but right now she was sad about...nothing at all. A missed opportunity.

She knew what would make her feel better. Her mind drifted to the email from this morning. Maybe it was silly, but the reminder of that invitation did make her feel better. Had her walking taller, shoulders back, teeth biting into her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Oh, she wanted to go to the gala. Donation or no, she was determined. Maybe she’d meet the man from the elevator again, or maybe she’d met  _ the _ Tony Stark. She’d read the email back six times over the day, so she knew full well that it was a masquerade, but she was still excited.

So excited that Nat could tell something was up the second she stepped through the door. And Nat, being relentless and stubborn, managed to convince Y/N to sit on the couch and spill all the details she had in absolutely no time.

“Holy shit,” Nat said when she’d finished. “You never get invited to Stark parties!”

“I mean, I’m not on the board or an heiress or anything so I get it,” she responded, shrugging. “Some of my coworkers think it’s basically an open invitation this year.”

“And it’s a masquerade!” Nat practically squealed, which made Y/N even more excited than she already had been.

Y/N nodded, the tiniest bit of embarrassment seeping into her joy. She cleared her throat before she said, “I, uh. Kinda need help finding something to wear.”

Nat stood up so quickly she nearly toppled over. But she was lithe and graceful - a former dancer - so she caught herself quickly and turned toward her bedroom.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked, trying to follow with her eyes.

“Getting my bag and shoes - we’re going shopping!”

Wanda appeared at that. She asked what all the noise was about, and before Y/N could even attempt to resist or refuse, Nat was back and informed her of everything. Between the two of them, Y/N knew there was no way she’d get out of this.

Nat texted someone as she headed for the door. She sent the message, then looked up at Y/N with a smirk and nodded for Wanda to join them.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked.

“We,” Nat answered. “And it’s not even eight. Most stores are still open, but I’ve got an in at one in particular.”

\--

“I don’t know,” she murmured, moving the skirt around. “It seems like a lot.”

“Babe, you’re going to a black tie charity gala,” Wanda said. “It’s all gonna be a lot.”

She looked at her reflection and sighed for the millionth time.  [ The dress ](https://pin.it/c6wnvi7tfovirr) was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny it. Deep cut and embellished, the soft material flowed around her in light floral patterns and it all made her feel…

Well, she knew what she  _ should _ feel. She should see her reflection and think  _ Princess _ , but that had never described her. Nat and Wanda were the only ones in her life that looked at her and saw more than she did, so it didn’t surprise her that  _ they _ liked the dress.

And she liked it, too. Loved it, actually. The dress itself was amazing, but on her… She couldn’t help but think she was dragging it down. Or, as a consultant on  _ Say Yes to the Dress  _ might say, the dress was wearing her, not the other way around.

“You look hot,” Nat said, standing to walk around the stool Y/N was perched on. “This color is perfect for your skin tone and I have a headband that would go  _ so well _ .”

“I need a mask,” she responded. She said it like...like it was an excuse not to buy this dress. As if a mask couldn’t be found or made to match it.

Her friends, however, were not going to let her leave empty handed. And they both loved this dress. The last two had gotten nods of approval, but not like this. Not warranting both Nat and Wanda standing at her sides, watching the mirror with her, both moving the skirt around with smiles.

“I’ll take care of the mask,” Wanda said. “You should get this dress.”

“I’m only gonna wear it once-”

“Or we can find you another event to wear it to. Or one of us will wear it next.”

“Exactly,” Nat said. “So, really, what’re you scared of?”

“The price-”

“We’ll help.” Wanda smiled softly, and before Y/N could attempt to deny the offer, she held a hand up. “We  _ want _ to help. Besides, if we put in some money that gives us more incentive to want to wear the dress so we can all get a use out of it, right?”

“It’s too nice for me.”

“That’s just a blatant lie,” Nat said. “Y/N, you look fucking amazing. We should all get this dress. You’ll just be the first one to wear it.”

She did have to admit to herself that that sounded... _ fair _ . Maybe not conventional, but fair. Fair enough that she could hold herself a little higher, stretch her neck a little longer and really see what her friends were seeing. Once she stopped questioning whether she was worthy of such a dress and just enjoyed being in it, she could see herself walking into the gala in it, the hem flowing around her heels as all eyes turned on her. No one would know who she was unless they worked with her, and even then, she’d be wearing a mask.

She’d look mysterious. Pretty. Sexy, even.

Like Nat, who’d have to have the dress taken in a little after Y/N and Wanda wore it, but she probably knew people for that, too.

“So?” Wanda asked.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. Let’s do it.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, um. So I know you need the dress first and I’m totally on board with that,” Wanda said a week before the gala.

“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Y/N said, flipping through a magazine as she waited for her toenails to dry. She didn’t even look up at her roommate at first.

“There’s a party I’m going to later that night. Long story, another photographer’s trying to start some trend of middle-of-the-night parties or something. But it’s black tie and I-”

“You need the dress?” Y/N did glance at Wanda then. She put her magazine down and watched as Wanda nodded, throwing her a wince.

“I’m sorry, babe. I know the gala’s important to you-”

“Wanda, it’s fine. I don’t plan on staying past midnight anyway, so it’ll work out.” She smiled, and after hesitating a second, Wanda came into the room and sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed.

“You’re sure? It won’t be a total buzzkill or anything?”

Y/N shook her head and grabbed Wanda’s hand gently. “Hon, you helped pay for the dress. We agreed we’d share it. If your turn is  _ literally _ immediately after mine, then so be it. I promise I’ll have it back with enough time for you to get comfy in it.”

Wanda reached forward and pulled Y/N into a tight hug. “You’re  _ literally _ the best friend ever.”

\--

Thor watched as his friends - all of them, in one place for once - drank and danced and laughed together. It truly had been too long. He’d missed each and every one of them. But especially Steve and Bucky, who were already up to no good as they poked and prodded at some of the board members that attempted to get to Tony.

Sam, the Director of Public Relations, sidled up to Thor with his signature smirk. His mask was simple - deep gold velvet to offset the golden embellishments along his maroon suit. “Come alone again, Big Man?”

He gave a sardonic laugh, as he usually did to Sam’s teasing. “It’s almost expected now. Who’m I to throw a wrench in our well-oiled machine?”

Sam laughed at that, bending forward a bit like he always did when his friends thought they were funnier than he was. As much as Tony liked to crown himself the King of Sarcasm, there was no doubt among them that Sam was the true comedian. That was part of what made him so good at his job - Sam was probably the best with outsiders from their group.

“Well, you’ve got plenty to choose from tonight, I’m sure.” Sam winked as they both headed into the group proper. They shared three tables, where they stood and laughed and drank together. Sam greeted his wife, Maria, who’s deep green and gold color scheme made the two of them look like Christmas incarnate. They’d probably planned it that way, Thor figured.

Thor moved around the tables to stand next to Bucky and his latest flame - a slender, mysterious looking woman with fire-colored hair and a gilded butterfly mask. Her dress was long and sleek, black silk that clung to her like it was made specifically for her. Bucky wore a slate gray tuxedo that enhanced the blues of his eyes, paired with a silver and black mask that only covered half of his face.

“Going for an Andrew Lloyd Webber look, Barnes?” Thor asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes but smiled, and his date smirked.

“This Phantom’s pretty bad at picking out his Christine, I’d wager,” the woman said. She held her hand out to Thor, her gaze obvious as she sized him up. “Natasha. You must be the one named for a Norse God.”

He nodded. “It’s a family tradition. I’m Thor.” They shook hands before Bucky cut in.

“He’s Stark’s head of security,” he told Natasha. She nodded, but the bend in her eyebrow told Thor she already knew that. Thor wasn’t sure how, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“And the only one in this group going stag, apparently,” Natasha responded. “Bold choice. I respect it.”

“I’ve been here all of ten minutes and you’re the second one to comment on that,” Thor told her. “But only the first not to make a joke at my expense.” He looked at Bucky and wiggled his eyebrows. “I like this one, Barnes.”

Bucky seemed to positively beam at that. He lifted his glass to his lips, finished off his drink, and kept on smiling at Natasha like she lit the entire room with her presence.

Thor didn’t know how his friend knew this woman, but for a moment, he was quite envious. He was fine with his friends poking fun at his being single, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t want to find someone he could look at that way. Someone who might look at him like that, too.

He heard Bucky mumble something about the bar before putting his hand low on Natasha’s back, but Thor pushed away from the table and shook his head.

“No, let me,” he said. “I need a beer anyway.” He smiled at the two of them, then moved away from the group. It wasn’t like he had to ask his friends what they were drinking.

He took requests from a few of the others at the tables, then started the trek across the large, grand, crowded ballroom. He nearly stepped on three people before he’d even made it halfway, and he thought to himself that no other holiday gala had been so packed. He’d never had to wait in a line to make his annual donation to whatever charity it was Tony had picked before this year, but it had taken him an extra twenty minutes to get into the ballroom. And to be honest, he was kind of proud of that.

Being as tall as he was, Thor could easily see over most of the people he passed. He didn’t even think twice about looking down, as he could find the path to the bar easier from his vantage point.

But, by not looking down, he didn’t see the blue fabric swaying beneath his foot before he stepped down on it. He heard a woman yelp and immediately stopped. His eyes widened, and he stood back and lifted his foot as fast as he could.

The woman crouched and gathered the end of the dress out from under Thor. She frantically examined the hem, pulling the fabric bits at a time to look closely. He bent down and reached for the fabric to help, but the woman pulled it closer to herself before falling back on her bottom.

“Oh my,” he mumbled to himself, straightening enough to bend toward her, one hand outstretched to her, the other curved to keep the crowd from stepping on her further. “I’m so, so sorry, ma’am. Let me help-”

She grunted and pushed herself up a bit before looking at him. The  [ pretty lace mask ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/db/bf/2d/dbbf2dbc5757f8f92abb3ce1632e7b23.jpg) hid so little of her face that he recognized her immediately, as she stopped and must have recognized him, too.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

The woman from the elevator. The one he hadn’t stopped thinking of.

And he’d stepped on her.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled. “Please, please let me help.” He shook the hand stretched toward her to remind her of its presence.

She kept looking at him, apparently stunned into silence. He thought of her exit from the elevator that night; she’d been frightened of...God only knows what. Her expression now wasn’t so far off from that, and he was suddenly a little mad at himself for such reckless trekking.

But then she looked at his hand. Then his other arm, still keeping the crowd from her. She took a deep breath and, slowly, put her soft palm in his larger one. As gently as he could, he helped her up, still guarding her from the moving crowd around them.

“I’m really sorry, miss,” he said, when she was just below his chin. “Is your dress okay?”

She looked down, and he did, too.

The gown she wore was...perfect. Flawless. The color of a cloudless winter sky, with floral lace and a plunging neckline that fit her immaculately. She moved the skirt, then smiled softly before meeting his gaze again.

“It seems fine. No tears or anything, thank God.”

Her eyes scanned his face, and for a moment, he wondered what she was looking at. But the dark, unnatural circles around his vision reminded him that he was  [ wearing a mask ](https://www.venicemaskedball.co.uk/ekmps/shops/maskedball/images/black-silver-mens-papier-mache-mask-298-p.jpg) , too. Unlike her dainty one, his was dark with gold spots all across it. Over one eye were silver branches that, in the right light, looked like lightning.

He’d obviously picked the mask for his namesake.

His friends were all but forgotten when he smiled back at her. Neither of them seemed to notice he was still holding her hand, still looking at her and her lovely dress, her feminine little mask that hid nothing about her at all.

“Glad to hear it. I should’ve been looking at where I was going.”

She raised her eyebrows and tipped her head, seeming to agree but with a kind of lightness that poked more fun than accused. “I’d say so,” she said in a matching tone.

He bent forward just enough that he could talk in a lower tone, close to her ear, before telling her, “Although, I must be having a bout of good luck if you’re the one I nearly ran over.” His mind freaked for a second, as he stood up again, wondering if he’d overstepped a boundary with such open flirting-

But her smile deepened, and a bashful shadow creeped across her chest and up her neck. She bit her lip, and it was the sweetest thing Thor had ever seen.

_ Shit _ he thought.  _ It’s that easy? _

“Try not to make it a habit,” she said, a coy wink following shortly.

He chuckled. “Of course not.”

He wasn’t thirsty anymore. He wasn’t even in that room with all of those people anymore. His friends weren’t waiting at their tables for him and their drinks anymore, because he was busy looking at the woman he’d all but given up on seeing again. And though he’d stepped on her a minute ago, she was smiling at him, laughing at and with him.

It was such a small thing, and he knew it, but it was monumental too. So big he didn’t have a way to tell her what it meant, other than to tune in when the song changed and an idea formed in his head.

“Would you, maybe, want to dance with me?” he asked.

Her face slowly fell, and Thor wondered if he’d asked the wrong thing. Maybe  _ that _ was too far, though he’d only meant to be polite.

“I-” she started.

He couldn’t ignore how his heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t even know you,” she whispered. Wistfully. Like she was more curious than anything, wondering why he’d asked her to dance.

And that alone made him feel a little bit better. There was hope in her tone, which meant she wasn’t outrightly turning him down.

“Well I don’t know you either,” he said. “But you ran away before we could get to know each other once already. And I know I would like to keep that from happening again, if possible.”

\--

_ You don’t know his name _ her head screamed. Her heart couldn’t argue against that, but the color of his eyes behind the dark mask, mixed with the gentle smile he couldn’t wipe off his face, put her at ease. He looked so fucking good in his three piece suit, all gold and dark gray but not quite black - she would hate herself if she didn’t at least dance with him.

And, more or less, he’d said she was the one that’d gotten away. Every woman wanted to hear that, right? Maybe not from a man she hardly knew, but there was something about him, something in the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that settled her.

Nat would say she was proud of Y/N for thinking of herself first. Y/N wondered where her friend was at that moment, though she knew her roommate had been invited by one of the execs. (Of course she had - it was hard  _ not  _ to notice Nat if you had eyes.)

She shook her head to center herself, but then the man wearing lightning on his mask dropped his smile. “Oh, sorry,” she muttered. “Of course. I’d love a dance.”

Lightning man led her to the dance floor by the hand he had never let go of. She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t noticed, but she certainly hadn’t until he’d already moved them. Chills ran up her arm and down her back at the thrill of this handsome semi-familiar sort-of stranger never letting her go.

When they made it to the dance floor, he pulled her around to face him. Her free hand went to his shoulder, while his took a light purchase on her side. Just as they started swaying together, she smirked up at him.

“Looks like no one else tried to stop me in my tracks by stepping on my dress,” she teased.

His head hung bashfully, but he didn’t stop their dancing.  _ Multi-talented, I see _ . She liked that.

“I know, I know,” he said. “I said I was sorry!”

She laughed. He wasn’t even trying to be funny - she could tell - but he made her laugh anyway. She liked that, too.

“You did,” she agreed. “And you’re forgiven.”

“Oh, well, thank you for that. Otherwise, I’d wonder my whole life what I could do to make it better.” He looked up again, his eyes apparently being drawn to hers.

“I honestly don’t even know,” she said. “My roommate’s wearing the dress next and I wouldn’t have had time to fix it.”

She almost stopped dancing at that. Her honesty to this total stranger shocked her, and she ended up tripping over her own feet. She let out a rushed  _ ohmygod _ and expected to fall, again, but Lightning Man’s hands shifted and kept her from hitting the ground. And he laughed. Really laughed. She would’ve enjoyed the sound if she wasn’t so embarrassed again.

He helped her back up, then proceeded to dance like nothing had changed. Except that he asked, “Do you have a propensity for falling?” in an equally teasing tone to her earlier one.

“Only around you, I guess.”

\--

They danced for a long, long while. So long that she’d lost track of time. She was so totally engrossed in this man that she didn’t even realize she still hadn’t asked for his name. She still hadn’t given him hers.

But he was funny and genuine. He laughed loudly, even when people around them stared. It was a masquerade ball, she figured, so who would really care? She liked that he expressed himself so openly, that he continued to engage her in conversation through song after song. That he never seemed to tire of her.

He never seemed to get enough. The thought was, really, too much, so she pushed it into the recesses of her mind. This handsome man, whom she’d only met once before, couldn’t possibly be  _ that _ interested in her. He felt bad, she convinced herself, for stepping on her, and then even worse for nearly tripping her.

At some point, she felt her phone vibrating from within one of the dress’s pockets. Her face fell, and she immediately pulled out of the dance. Her body went cold without his hands on her, but she ignored that as she pulled her phone out and saw the time. Then the cool of her skin turned slick as she realized how long she’d been dancing.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Oh my god, it’s so late!”

The man’s forehead wrinkled, but actual, real concerned lined his face. “What? It’s only eleven.”

“I know!” she said, suddenly panicked. “I’m so, so sorry-” She forced herself to look up at him, to take in his face once more. Only then did she realize she didn’t know what to call him. But she didn’t have time to figure that out. “So sorry. I have to go.”

“What?” he asked again. “Go where?”

She shook her head, bunching her skirt high enough to free her feet. It wouldn’t be much better if she were the one to ruin the bottom of the dress just because Lighting Man hadn’t.

“So sorry,” she murmured once more before she took off.

Leaving him was hard. This man she hardly knew, a nameless man she’d met all of twice, had such an effect on her that her breathing became labored. She choked that up to suddenly running in heels, but her heart knew the truth. Her eyes wouldn’t water over running. Her throat wouldn’t tighten unless she were really having trouble and right now, the only trouble she was having was in the distance between herself and Lightning Man.

She felt kind of stupid to regard someone so highly when she didn’t really know him. Even so, she couldn’t force herself to look back at him - partially because she was running late to get the dress back to Wanda and partially because she knew it would hurt even more if she did.

When she made it onto the street, she hailed a cab, knowing the subway was too dirty for the dress. She wiped tears away from her eyes as she slid into the back seat, then croaked out her address, thinking only of the man in the lightning mask that had treated her like the only woman in the room all night.

And she didn’t even know his name.

\--

He made it out onto the street just in time to see her being hauled away in the back of a cab. She’d given him no explanation, just run off without so much as a name.

His elevator woman. The blue-clad princess he’d held in his hands all night was still nameless, and now she was gone. Again.

Thor cursed himself, kicked out a bit, but stopped when his foot collided with something. He looked down and found her dainty lace mask, the one he’d been staring at (or rather through) all night. He kneeled down to pick it up, holding the glittery metal between his fingers gently, like he was afraid of breaking it.

He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. It was his last remnant of the girl who’d gotten away. Twice.

He didn’t even have her name, just this mask and the memory of their laughter mixing while they danced.


	4. Chapter 4

His mother called a family dinner a week after the gala, early in December, just like she always did. Frigga liked to make holiday plans close to the holidays, and always in person.

Thor wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it, but he knew his mother would be disappointed if he skipped out. And that she wouldn’t accept “work” as a valid excuse for his absence. None of her children were really allowed to miss family dinners. Ever. Even if she never said it like that.

But he’d run out of the office at the last possible minute to be able to make it in time and, of course, that meant he didn’t have time to run home and leave the mask on his kitchen counter. He’d been keeping it in his blazer pockets during the day, and in the most visible spot on his counter every night since the gala, a reminder of the woman he’d lost  _ twice _ now.

His  _ only _ physical reminder.

He felt so stupid for being so easily distracted. Just having her in his arms had been enough to make him forget to ask for her  _ god damn name _ ! It wasn’t like the mask could help track her down, but if he’d just asked what her name was, he’d have something to actually go on.

As he came up from the subway, Thor patted the mask inside his breast pocket, hoping that was a good enough hiding spot to keep it from his family’s prying eyes. 

No such luck, of course. How he thought he could truly fool his mother like that was a question that would later haunt him.

No sooner had he stepped into his parents’ penthouse apartment and pulled the blazer off to hang on their coat rack did the damn mask fall out of the pocket and right onto the floor. And since it was metal falling on hard marble floors, everyone in the vicinity heard it.

Hela, the oldest Odinson sibling - the wily one, which said something with Loki in the running; the one who was able to talk her way out of half of the family dinners when she felt like doing anything but sitting at a table with her father - poked her head out from the kitchen and into the foyer.

“You’re late,” she said flatly, her long, dark hair flying out past her frame in a ridiculously extensive braid. Then her eyes fell to the ground, since Thor had bent down to pick the mask back up. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he answered.

But that only intrigued his sister more. Because of course it did. He managed to shove the mask back into his blazer before she made it across the room, but Thor knew there was no way Hela hadn’t seen exactly where he’d put it.

“I’ll give you one chance to tell me what it is, Little Brother, or I’ll find out myself.” Never one to beat around a threat, she was upfront and clear.

The familiarity almost comforted Thor.

He rolled his eyes and ignored her because, really, what was she going to do with a metal masquerade mask? It was Frigga seeing it that he actually feared. He knew that if he didn’t make a big deal of it, Hela most likely wouldn’t, either.

Or so he hoped, anyway.

Moving into the kitchen, he smiled and greeted the rest of his family. Loki and Odin were already seated at the dining room table, Frigga was still working away at the last details of the dinner, and Hela was only just then coming back into the room to pour out drinks. Thor helped by taking dishes and cups to the table, which was more than he could say for his brother, at the very least.

“Nice to see you again, Loki,” he said, only somewhat teasing. His brother had a propensity for travel, and for causing mischief wherever he went. Usually it was all in good fun, but it also meant that the family often wouldn’t hear from him for weeks on end. So, in a way, it actually  _ was _ nice to see him again.

The youngest Odinson sibling smiled widely, almost to the point of being fake. “You as well, Brother.”

Within minutes, Frigga forced everyone into their normal spots around the table with she and her husband, Freyr, at opposite ends and her children - Thor and Loki on one side, Hela on the other - around them.

They dug into the food, making the normal smalltalk for a family of five full grown adults. And then, when Frigga asked her children if there was anything new going on before getting into whatever she’d called the dinner for, Hela smirked.

Thor should’ve known he couldn’t trust his older sister with this. He was the Golden Child - literally  _ and _ figuratively; Thor was the only one that had inherited their mother’s blond hair where his siblings had dark,  _ dark _ hair that resembled Freyr in his younger days - and Hela had always been jealous of that. She’d never done anything to, like, harm him or Loki, but she did whatever she could to put them both through the ringer. Reasonably.

“Thor’s hiding something from us,” she said, point-blank. It was that easy for her. “I found a woman’s masquerade mask in his jacket.”

Frigga stared at him a moment, a curious glance thrown in his direction. He was beginning to wonder if she knew what to ask him, but then she sat forward, and he knew it was coming.

“What ever for?”

He rolled his eyes. Part of him really wanted to put this behind him by making something up. But the other part of him, the Romantic part that couldn’t forget the woman he’d danced with, hoped that speaking into the Universe what he wanted might bring it to him. 

After all, some force in the Universe had already brought her twice.

“I kind of met someone,” he said as calmly as he could, looking anywhere but into the eyes of anyone else at the table. The ceiling was nice and distracting, for instance.

Frigga, on the other hand, went straight into a fit. She started out making unintelligible noises before getting out a breathy and loud, “Excuse me?!”

Thor shrugged, knowing that now there was absolutely no reason to cut corners. Hela had started this conversation, so why not just do what she would at this point? “Well, I-I didn’t so much meet someone as I...uh, bumped into her twice, and then we danced at the holiday gala.”

No one had a response to that, which surprised Thor. His siblings almost always had something to say. His father nearly never held his opinion back, and his mother was well known for her unnecessary reactions.

It took him a second to look up at his family, notice they’d all stopped what they were doing, and sit back to ask, “What?”

“I’d be the first to wager no one was expecting  _ that _ ,” Loki muttered.

“Who is this woman?” Frigga asked.

Thor wished he had an answer. Wanted one more than anything, but not just for his family’s sake.

God, he wanted to know her name so badly. Wanted to know  _ her _ , beyond knowing that she worked on his floor and had the prettiest laugh in the entire world. He remembered her in that dress - that baby blue that made her look soft and elegant - and wished, so badly, that he wasn’t about to let his family down.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

Hela couldn’t help herself but chuckle. Thor didn’t even blame her for it, either. Their father, however, cleared his throat and glared at her.

“I’m sorry,” Frigga interrupted. “Did you say you don’t know the woman that mask you’re carrying around belongs to?”

“Uh. Yes?”

And that set  _ both _ of his siblings to laughter. Which he’d anticipated, if only in the last few minutes of the conversation. So he let it happen until their father had enough. All he did was put his fork down loudly, but it was enough to call the table to order. Just not without glares right back at him from his oldest and youngest.

“Do you have a way to find her, dear?” Frigga asked, calmer now, like nothing had happened in between her previous question and this one.

Thor might never know how his mother was always able to pinpoint the worst part of every situation, but he did know that she was always the first to offer a solution. So sometimes it was hard for him to explain every single detail; if he got it out anyway, Frigga would give him something to help.

“I do not.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore. His initial reaction to admitting that was to wish he was back at work, not thinking about this woman that kept getting away from him. But he couldn’t really escape her there, either, if she worked on his floor.

“Can I see the mask?” Frigga asked. “Please.”

With nothing left to hide, Thor nodded. He got up from the table and went back into the foyer, gently pulling the mask from his jacket as if Frigga seeing it could fix everything. That wasn’t possible and he wasn’t letting himself believe that it was, but he also couldn’t let go of his hope.

Hope to see that woman again. Hope to, finally, be able to tell her who he was as well as ask who she was. Hope that they could find something more than small moments on elevators and dancefloors.

He brought the mask to his mother directly, putting it beside her napkin before returning to his seat. He forced himself to eat a little bit while she examined the metalwork. No one said anything again, which unsettled Thor more than helped the situation.

“She was at the Stark holiday gala?” Frigga asked finally.

Thor only nodded.

“If she came alone, which I assume she did if you danced together, then she’s most likely a Stark employee, is she not?”

“She is. I think she works in one of the offices on the same floor as mine.” He swallowed hard and forced out, “I just don’t know which one.”

“Well that’s no problem.” Frigga handed the mask to Hela, who passed it back to Thor. “Your phone has camera capabilities. Post fliers, send a blast email. Whatever it takes to find this woman.” She cut off a piece of her fish, then looked him dead in the eye. “You wouldn’t be carrying her mask around if you didn’t want to find her, dear. I know you at least that well.”

\--

All she thought about for days was the tall blonde man with lighting around one eye and a dashing smile that lit up the whole god damn room around him. It wasn’t fair. He was...so far out reach in far too many ways.

First, he was definitely out of her league. Nat and Wanda might not agree, but they thought she was too good for everyone.

Second, she still had no idea who he was. Whenever someone went past her office, she’d look up and hope it was him, but it never was. It was like he came in earlier and left later than she did every day, and never once did he appear to leave his office. Either that, or he worked on a part of the floor she couldn’t see from her desk.

She thought about going to search for him every day, but Sitwell kept her far too busy to spare a moment on a whim. A dream.

That’s what he was: a dream. Tall and lovely and kind. Inviting. At least those are the things he’d let her see. She wasn’t sure what else there was, but she wanted to know so badly.

But by the end of her days, she was so tired she never really spared a thought for searching. She went on autopilot after six, walking absently into the elevator without thinking twice. Her thoughts all turned to dinner and bed by the time she made it down to the subway, and only when she was halfway home did she remember she had a hypothetical mission.

But really, who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to find him. If it hadn’t happened in the week since the gala, it wasn’t going to happen, and such was her luck.

Nat, however, seemed to be blessed, in comparison. She’d met a man before the gala, who’d then invited her as his date, and things seemed to be going well between them.

“He’s...interesting,” she said when Wanda asked about him one night. “So smart. Like, intimidatingly smart. Or at least he would to anyone else.” She chuckled at herself, pulling one leg up close to her on the couch so she could paint her toenails.

“You  _ are _ the smartest person I know,” Y/N said. And she wasn’t exaggerating; Natasha had a knack for keeping up with the best minds, the fastest thinkers. Y/N had gone to a few photoshoots with her at the start of their roommateship, and she’d seen how Nat handled herself in a room full of self important people who only saw her as a marketing tool. So it wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this man had piqued her interest with his brains first.

“We have a lot of fun together.”

“I’m almost sorry I missed you guys at the gala,” Y/N said. She meant it as a joke, but it caught Wanda’s attention, apparently.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, suddenly blinking fast in disbelief.

Y/N and Nat made eye contact for a second, then nodded like they’d communicated something top secret.

“The gala was super crowded,” Nat said. “I spent all night with Bucky and his friends. One of ‘em ran off to get us drinks and never came back. I’m still not convinced he didn’t get eaten by the crowd.”

“This was the first year the whole company was invited,” Y/N told them. “I might send in a suggestion for new venues if that’s gonna be the standard for next year.”

“But-wait, you didn’t text each other to meet up at some point?” Wanda asked, clearly still confused.

Nat shrugged. “I mean, I did text, but by that time Y/N had already left.”

“I had to get home to give you the dress.”

Wanda stared for a minute. That was all she did. She’d even stopped fiddling with her phone. It was like she’d short circuited or something, and it started to scare her roommates when it went on for well over thirty seconds.

“What?” Y/N asked, brows creasing in part-frustration and part-concern.

“So you went alone to a black tie gala, then left early because I asked for the dress?” Wanda asked.

“Uh. Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“Did you do  _ anything _ at the gala? Or did you just stand around in a crowd in that amazing dress?”

“Hey,” Nat called softly, nudging Wanda with her heel. “Chill.”

“I am chill,” she said back. “I’m just a little concerned…”

“Why?” Y/N asked, a certain kind of panic setting in. A voice in her head that sounded all too familiar - her stepmother’s voice - started filling in the gaps Wanda left behind.  _ You have too much time, and I know just the way to fill it _ .

But a calmer voice inside told her that Wanda was nothing like that woman.

“You were so excited to go to the party,” Wanda said softly, scooting closer to Y/N so she could put her hand on her knee. “You deserved to have a good time.”

“Well it’s not like I just stood around,” Y/N defended. And then, a little absently, “Although, I probably would have if I’d actually gotten in line for the bar.” 

Of course she’d gone to the gala hoping to see him, but from the moment of stepping through the doors and into the immense crowd, she’d basically given up on that hope. There were too many people to navigate around, so she’d set her sights on the bar in search of a distraction. Which then, that, too, had been dashed when she  _ had  _ found her Elevator Crush.

“Okay,” Wanda said, motioning for her to keep going. “So what  _ did _ you do then?”

Y/N felt her face flush. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her face, even as she tried to hide it by covering her mouth with her hand. Her roommates both saw right through that; Nat got excited and nearly attacked Y/N to move her arm while Wanda sat up straighter and let it all happen.

“You met someone!” Nat insisted. And when Y/N made no other response but a long, drawn out whine, she said, “Oh my god, you did!”

The laughter she and Y/N let out then was undeniable. Unstoppable. Nat laughed because she was right (and so did Y/N), and Y/N laughed because the memory of dancing with her Elevator Crush - her Lightning Man - brought butterflies to her stomach.

“Dish! Tell us everything!” Wanda said, smiling as she moved to lean her elbow on the back of the couch and face both of her roommates.

Y/N figured there was no time like the present. And since she’d been caught, she may as well let it out. Maybe if she told her roommates, something out in the ether might hear and make things happen, she figured.

“I, uh. I met a guy on the elevator when I was leaving one day. But then I kinda freaked out on him and ran to the subway and just had a feeling I was never gonna see him again. But...I don’t know why I thought I’d find him at the gala, since I knew  _ everyone _ was gonna be there, but I did. I just knew. And then he stepped on the dress and-”

“Wait,” Wanda cut in. “He did what?!”

“It was fine. Not a scratch on it.” Y/N shrugged, but she knew that part of the story wasn’t really  _ nothing _ . Fine it might be, but it was of consequence when the two women with her now helped her pay for that dress. “He bent down to help me fix the dress but there was nothing on it. And I guess my mask wasn’t enough to really hide anything and he recognized me.”

“Holy shit,” Nat said.

Y/N had always thought that Natasha, for all her badassery and intelligence, was secretly a hopeless romantic when push came to shove. She smiled wider at the whispered curse, then went on.

“And then we danced. All night. We talked a little and he made me laugh and stuff. It was nice.”

“I feel like you’re downplaying this,” Wanda accused, but her tone was as teasing as the single raised brow thrown at Y/N. “I think you really like him!”

“Who is he?” Nat asked. “Maybe he knows Bucky!”

And that’s when Y/N’s stomach and heart both sank into her butt.

“Oh, uh. That’s kinda the thing.” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to work herself up to tell her friends how foolish she’s been. Twice she’s met this man, twice he’s given her his time and attention (which she knows isn’t everything, but it is something), and twice she’s run off from him without giving him her name or asking for his.

“My phone went off before I got around to asking who he was. I had to get out of there to get the dress home in time for-”

“Oh no.” Wanda’s face blanched, and her expression went blank. “Oh honey, no, no! I would’ve understood!”

“But you needed the dress-“

Wanda put one hand each on Y/N’s shoulders, shaking gently as she said, “And you deserved to enjoy yourself  _ and _ have a hot guy ogle you! Oh my god, Y/N, you totally could’ve stayed!”

“But we agreed-“

“Y/N, you’re the best and most noble friend anyone could ask for but god damn it, you should have stayed! You should've gotten his name and lived happily ever after and, for the record, I totally would’ve forgiven you for keeping the dress!”

She just stared at Wanda because, honestly, that kind of understanding didn’t compute. Y/N had never had friends like her current roommates before. She’d never shared something so lovely as that dress with anyone before, and she’d taken the responsibility of  _ sharing _ very seriously. It had never occurred to her that she could apologize and ask for more just because she’d been given so little.

“What was he wearing, Y/N?” Nat asked, drawing both of her roommates’ attention to her.

She tried to remember. His suit had been nice, she could remember that much, but his eyes… The bright blue hue of them distracted her. She couldn’t recall what color the suit had been, no matter how hard she tried. To be fair, she hadn’t spent that much time looking at his suit,

But she had spent a decent amount of time looking at his face. His mask.

“He had on this gorgeous black and gold mask with this silver branch-like detailing,” she said, eyes drifting to the corner of the room as her memory sailed. “It kind of looked like...like lightning.”

Nat and Wanda watched the dreamy look on Y/N’s face. It was a glance they’d never seen on her before, but they liked what it implied. Wanda smiled back, and Nat’s jaw dropped as she reached for her phone.

“Ho-ly shit!” she said, hitting each syllable individually, popping up onto her knees energetically. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit!”

“What?” Wanda asked, sitting back a bit.

“I know who he is!” She fiddled with her phone for a second, and though neither of them noticed, no part of this conversation was bringing Y/N back from the lofty, far-off place she’d gone to.

She was busy remembering their dance, his hands on her, his laughter in her vicinity. The way he’d immediately recognized her. The fact that, for some reason, he didn’t blame her for running out of that elevator like he’d done something dangerous.

She liked him for all of it.

And right after realizing that, he was placed right in her line of sight. On Nat’s phone. Google Images popped up one after another, all of this tall blonde man and his incredible eyes. His indescribable smile. The easy way he carried himself, despite knowing he was on the large side of the human spectrum.

“Is this him?” Nat asked.

Y/N nodded. She looked up at the search bar.

_ Thor Odinson _ .

So that was his name.

“But- how did you know?” she asked, whipping her head toward Nat.

“He’s a friend of Bucky’s,” her roommate answered. “Like, a close friend, I think. They’re all part of this group of Stark directors and execs and I met him, I’m guessing before he ran into you.”

_ Thor. _ The name certainly suited him, and the mask made sense now.

“Oh my god, this is amazing! Y/N, I can tell Bucky you’re the elevator girl! He can help and-”

“No.”

Even she couldn’t believe she’d said it.

“Bu- What?” Nat asked, her face scrunching up.

Y/N stood to move away from her friends. Moving around the lovely, light memories of dancing and smiles was the fact that this man -  _ Thor _ , her Elevator Crush - was an executive. Or, at least, a director of some office within the building. He was way, way above her, and if Jasper Sitwell had taught her anything, it was that reaching too far was dangerous.

No wonder she never saw him around. He was probably way too busy to deal with her on a regular basis.

But she couldn’t explain that to Nat, who had an answer prepared before Y/N realized a question had been asked.

“No,” she repeated. “It’ll be better if I find him,” she then lied. “But I appreciate the thought. Really.” She forced a smile, but all three women knew each other well enough to know it was as fake as the promise of looking for him was.


	5. Chapter 5

To: [ALL:SI.ORG]

From: todinson@security.si.org

Hello. Hope all is well.

I’m Thor, Director of Security, and I’m writing today to try to find someone. We met in an elevator, and again at the holiday gala, but never managed to exchange names or information. But I have your mask from the gala, and I was wondering if you might be able to stop by the Security offices (#2045) to pick it up.

If not, please respond via this email or a call to my assistant and we can arrange a meeting elsewhere. I ask that you simply describe the mask to me before I hand it over.

Thank you, and best wishes.

Thor Odinson

Director of Security

212-555-4390

todinson@security.si.org

  
  
  


It was the most bizzare email she’d ever read. Maybe she thought so because she knew it was meant for her, but even so, it was still...odd. A little clunky, especially coming from a Director of one of the - if not  _ the _ \- most important departments in the building. She had to stop herself from rewriting it to send back to Thor like she might with Sitwell’s emails to other directors.

After all, that was the only opportunity she ever got around the Accounting department to put her Public Relations degree to use.

Thor Odinson. Director of Security. A busy, important man who was, indeed, way out of her league, had her mask. A man she didn’t know, wouldn’t know, and had already decided not to respond to. Immediately after reading the email, she knew she was never getting that mask back, but she supposed it was for the better.

She’d never be wearing it again anyway. Let someone else claim it, if they could accurately describe it. 

_ Let someone else get the guy that’s too handsome, too funny, too good for you while you’re at it _ . 

Her head spoke but her heart yelled. Her chest had been so tight since that chat with Nat and Wanda that it hurt, but she knew things had to be this way. She was not going to strive for someone that never left his office, never asked for her name, and probably never would’ve even looked her way if they hadn’t been the last two people in the building that night.

She was just a secretary - an extremely busy one, once again - and he was friends with Tony Stark.

An incredibly handsome executive director friend of Billionaire Tony Stark - which, she remembered from their discussion of bosses from the night in the elevator, meant that he also  _ worked for _ Tony Stark. Forgetting about leagues, they weren’t even on the same level, just the same floor.

She could just imagine what her coworkers - and even Sitwell himself - might say if she... _ dated _ someone that much higher than her in the company. She’d seen it happen before, with a well meaning Accountant that should’ve been left alone to do as she pleased, and some agent or something from a few floors up. No one shut up about them for weeks; she’d heard the nastiest things about them in bathrooms and break rooms, and Y/N was not about to willingly face the same fate.

She was so convinced of this avoidance plan until Nat texted her. Apparently, Nat’s new beaux was in on the whole ordeal - or at least that was the only way Y/N could imagine that Nat would know about the email. When she told Nat she wasn’t going to respond, despite saying that she would, the texts turned threatening.

Nat: IS2G IF YOU DON’T GET UR ASS IN THERE AND GET UR MAN I’LL HAVE BUCKY COME DOWN THERE AND DEADASS CARRY YOU TO THE SECURITY OFFICE!!!

Y/N knew that, while Nat was her friend and respected her time and space, she also wasn’t lying. She’d do whatever she could to make this meeting happen, even though Y/N was starting to read the signs that all pointed in the opposite direction. Maybe all they were meant to have was two meetings by chance, and then resume their normal lives. Maybe she was supposed to lose her mask and move on.

Y/N: Nat, i can’t. I’m sure there’s a clause in my contract about interoffice dating or something.

As soon as she wrote it - let alone sent it - she knew it was an excuse. And not even a good one at that. But the shaky feeling in her heart kept her from doing anything about it.

Nat: he doesn’t even work in the same office as you, Y/N! You know who he is and where he is now - GO. TALK. TO. HIM.

She looked up from her desk at the offices across the hall. Security was around the corner, so she couldn’t actually see him from there, but she knew he wasn’t far. His email had made it sound like he’d be in there all day, every day until she came to find her mask. 

It would be so easy…

But then her eyes traveled to the list of chores Sitwell had given her today, and she shook her head. Maybe on her lunch break, if she even managed to take one, she’d head down the hall and try to explain the situation to him. Maybe he’d give the mask back, agree that they shouldn’t see each other again, and move on with his life.

All she had to do was ignore the pit in her stomach at the thought that he might forget about her and she’d be fine.

\--

She left a note on her desk that said she was going to pick up lunch, but it was a total farce. As far as she can remember, she’s never lied to Sitwell before, but she doesn’t feel so bad doing it now. He’s done more to deserve it than she can remember.

Without looking to see if Sitwell had noticed her absence, she left the office and started around the corner. Her feet felt heavy, but she moved forward anyway. She had to. If she didn’t do this, Nat would get it done for her, and she didn’t like that idea. Even if she felt like she would never match up to Thor, she wanted to be the one to say so.

She owed herself that much, at least.

She came around the final corner and nearly slammed into a woman she’d never seen before. Stopping short, Y/N caught her breath and looked around the woman, only to find a long, boisterous line of other women leading into the security office at the end of the hall.

She tapped the woman she’d almost run into on the shoulder and asked, “Uh, excuse me, but what is this?” If something in the building was wrong, she needed to know. It did mean she’d have to go talk to Sitwell, but at least she’d have a decent reason to.

The woman just barely glanced at her, but she sounded excited when she said, “The director of security’s searching for a mystery woman! Everyone’s taking their turn trying to win him over because he’s  _ very _ hot.”

Y/N’s face heated. She almost wished something  _ was _ wrong. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of and yet, there she was, unsure of what to say next to this woman, or any of the other women in line, truthfully. Somehow they all thought they had a chance of getting her mask, of talking to Thor and making moves and suddenly, as she glared down the long line of women again, she felt…

Unstable? Unsure?

No. No, what was creeping up her neck and along her arms was 100% insecurity. She had no idea who those women were or what their claims to Thor might be, if they had any, but she couldn’t possibly stack up against all of them. And she’d never make it to his office before her lunch break was over. Waiting was pointless, especially since she really didn’t need the mask anyway.

A thought occurred to her then: who’s to say that he had  _ her _ mask? He’d asked for the mask to be described to him, and just because she’d lost the metal mask she’d worn that night didn’t mean Thor had picked it up and been saving it since then. Her mask could be anywhere, and she could be standing in line only to be made a fool if the one he has belongs to any of these other women.

Nat would be disappointed in her. Wanda, too. But that didn’t stop the fear and crushing weight of the line of women in front of her from making her feet turn and take her back to her office, where she crumpled her note, threw it away, held her head low for the rest of the afternoon.

\--

“Val, please hold the line,” he said over the intercom. His assistant didn’t even answer, just held a thumb up to him through the glass walls of the office before she turned to the first woman in the...very...very long line and gave her instructions.

Thor was tired. All day, he’d been dealing with women hellbent on getting the mask. Or, as Val had suggested after reading his email blast, getting  _ him _ . All day, he’d been turning women away, sighing as he thought of the mask locked in the bottom drawer of his desk. Between meetings with these women and meetings with other execs and departments, his mind strayed only to one woman.

_ Her _ . God, it killed him that he didn’t know her name. He’d hoped she’d have seen his email and, if not shown up to claim her mask, at least replied. But none of the emails that came in about it got the description of the mask right. Some came close, but their descriptions were just off enough for Thor to know they weren’t the girl he’d danced with.

His Elevator Crush. That’s what Val had called her when he’d finally told her - because Val was more friend than assistant, but that was mostly just between them.

Why hadn’t she called him? He’d given her all the information she needed to get in touch. She hadn’t sent a message, hadn’t waited in the line - though he couldn’t so much blame her for that - but she hadn’t done anything to show that she was even interested in him or her mask.

Had he dreamt her up? Had she been a figment of his imagination? That didn’t make sense, given the very real mask in his drawer and the extremely visceral memories of her that kept invading his brain whenever he should be doing work.

Did she...not want to see him? Did she not want answers like he did? Had his mother been wrong to suggest this mode of search?

That much, Thor couldn’t say.

He dragged his thumb and forefinger along his chin, shutting his eyes long enough for her laughter to jingle throughout his cranium. 

A deep ache in his chest told him that he  _ missed _ her. A part of him wondered how, when he knew so little about her. But another part, a bigger part, was not at all surprised. He’d thought of only her since she’d run from him, regret and sadness in her eyes, he hoped because they’d been enjoying one another’s company and not because she didn’t like him. He hoped beyond hope that he was reading the situations right.

If he wasn’t… He didn’t even want to go there.

All Thor was prepared to do was let himself hope.

\--

At the end of the day, just as she was finishing up her list of chores, Sitwell came out of his office. He had his briefcase in hand and seemed ready to leave, but then he saw Y/N still hard at work and stopped. He cleared his throat and approached her desk, putting his briefcase down because, apparently, what he had to say might take a minute.

“Hello, Mr. Sitwell,” she said, attempting to smile. The day had taken a toll on her, though, so the movement felt lazy and uninspired.

Sitwell smirked. He leaned over the desk, holding his tie back to his chest, and tipped his head a bit. “Did you have a fun lunch break today, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, tone already condescending and awful.

“I, uh. Just went around the block,” she said, but it was just as lifeless as her smile had been. It was clear she was lying, even to her own ears.

“Oh, sure.” He leaned in even more, so close, Y/N leaned away to keep a safe distance. “The poor little secretary went around the block without any of her belongings on the one day a director on the same floor asked all the eligible women to come pay him a visit. Sure. Only…” And yet again, he leaned in, now using the edges of the desk to keep himself steady. “I see right through you. And honestly, I think it’s quite comical that a woman of your station thought you had a chance with Director Odinson.”

Panic set in. This man was too close, both physically and otherwise. But he was missing half the story, probably more, and Y/N was not about to give it to him. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to, because she found herself stunned into absolute silence.

“You’re a secretary. You do my easy work. You’re  _ nothing _ . No one. And your ambition is beyond your reach.”

She shook her head, but nothing came out. How was she supposed to explain everything? Why would she even bother?

“You listen and you listen well, Y/N. I will not have some clerical  _ whore _ reaching into the pockets of my peers. You stay where you’re meant to stay or you’ll be out on the street before you can so much as  _ blink _ , is that understood?”

She shook. Violent shivers overtook her as anxiety coursed, and she was unable to answer. Sitwell smacked the desk, and the hard slap on the wood made her cringe. A pathetic little whimper escaped her as images of the stepmother she’d run from flooded her mind.

Somehow, she always ended up here: deflated, abused, humiliated, and alone.

“I asked you a question!” Sitwell yelled.

Y/N frantically forced herself to nod. She noticed, then, that she was already crying, and her heart sank even lower than it already had. it managed to find a new low in its cavity.

Apparently pleased by his intimidation, Sitwell’s smirk returned. He  _ humphed _ proudly, then pushed himself up until he looked down at her through dark eyes.

“Remember who you are,” he said. “That I am above you, and I will be believed.”

\--

She skipped dinner with Nat and Wanda, and that ticked them off. They automatically knew something wasn’t right.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when they brought dinner to her on a freshly prepared plate, serious looks on their faces even as they calmly asked if their intrusion was okay. They knew Y/N well enough to know she’d never turn them away unless she were sick, but also that she wouldn’t lie to them about being sick even if she wanted to be left alone.

She was too good a friend.

They came in and huddled around Y/N on her bed, watching closely as she picked at the food they’d brought.

“Everything okay?” Nat asked.

Y/N thought about trying to lie to her two closest friends, but the thought didn’t settle in her easily. All she could do instead was shake her head and shut her eyes because if she kept them open, she was going to cry. If she looked either Wanda or Nat in the eyes, she’d lose it.

“What happened?” Wanda spoke up.

If she didn’t want to talk, she knew she could say so. Her friends would let it go, and if they asked again later, she could decide then if she wanted to say anything. But procrastination wasn’t really her style, and letting things sit and muster really wasn’t how she worked. Knowing that, she figured if she talked about it, then she could move on quicker and go about her normal life sooner.

So she told them about the whole day. About the line out of Thor's office, how intimidated she’d been by the women in front of her despite them having said less than sixteen words to her in total. She told them about Jasper Sitwell, too, and they were loud in their objections to his behavior.

“That’s straight up harassment, Y/N!” Wanda said. “You could press charges and-”

But she shook her head. “He’s not worth it. And he’s right - at least in as much as he’s a lot more powerful than I am. I’d never stand a chance against him.”

“You have to quit,” Nat said. “You can’t keep working for that absolute monster.”

“I can’t. I can’t not have a paycheck. I have rent and bills to pay and-”

“We’d take care of that for a while, YN. Don’t stay there like this.” Wanda reached out and gripped her wrist, a softness in her eyes that made her words true and choked Y/N up. “You can let us help you. We want to.”

“If I leave now, he’ll just find another poor girl to do this to.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Nat said. All three of them knew that Nat didn’t have  _ that _ much to say, but...maybe Bucky did? Maybe, if Y/N wouldn’t go to him for help with Thor (and she wouldn’t, even now), she could trust him with a testimony against Sitwell?

“That man’s been terrorizing you for years, Y/N. This is too far for too long.” Nat wrapped an arm across Y/N’s shoulders and pulled her close, her food all but forgotten. “You deserve better.”

She sat silently for a minute as those words rang around in her head.  _ You deserve better _ .  _ You. Deserve. Better _ . No one had...ever said something like that to her. Not before Nat and Wanda.

So she found it hard to believe. Between her stepmother’s abuse and Sitwell’s drilling, all Y/N thought was that she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t hard working or dedicated enough. She was  _ nothing _ , in Sitwell’s own words.

But didn’t Sitwell lie? Wasn’t he abusing his power by telling her how little she was worth? And, if she was worth so little, why was he keeping her around?

Were her friends right?

At the implication that they were, tears flowed freely. 

Because what if she  _ was _ worthy? What if she  _ did _ deserve better than what she’d gotten? What if she wasn’t nothing, but the  _ opposite _ instead? And what if she believed that she was better, worth more, deserved more and better,  _ and wanted it all _ ?

For a fleeting second, she let herself wonder if Thor was better, more, all that she deserved. But just as quickly, she wrote the possibility off. Maybe she was worthy of her friends and better than her boss at being a human, but that didn’t mean she could reasonably reach so far and expect the best.

There was too much opportunity for her to fall if she went that high.


	6. Chapter 6

Always patient and responsible, Y/N decided she would give her two weeks at the end of the next day. She’d say nothing of Sitwell’s behavior, just move on quietly and hope something better came along.

She’d already looked at open listings on the company’s portal. There were so many jobs she could do, some she wasn’t exactly qualified for but seemed straightforward enough, and a few she probably wouldn’t even try to apply for, given her resumè and experience. Those were the ones that made Sitwll’s voice ring in her head over and over again about how she was nothing, she was just a  _ clerical whore _ .

Y/N sighed and shook her head to clear the voice away.

She forced herself to think of her friends, of their faith in her. They made her believe in herself. But knew she wasn’t a firestarter, even if Nat’s suggestion was to burn the Accounting office to the ground along with Sitwell. Y/N was worthy and reliable, yes, she was sure of that now thanks to Nat and Wanda, but she was still someone who went quietly, but on her own terms. She could do both, and she was happy to do it that way.

But just before lunch, Tony Stark himself burst into the Accounting office. Everyone stirred, including Y/N, who watched incredulously as the CEO himself headed straight for her. She stood, and was just about to ask him what she could do for him when he asked, in a soft and careful tone that absolutely did not match the fire in his eyes, “Are you Y/N?”

She balked for a second, but nodded in the end.

“Follow me, please,” he said, hushed and hurried. And then he went right around her desk and into Sitwell’s office without knocking or any kind of acknowledgment.

“Mr. Stark,” Sitwell started. “What can I do for-”

“Stuff it, Jasper,” Tony interrupted. He turned to make sure Y/N was behind him, then held an arm out as a gesture for her to stand next to him. 

She looked between her boss and her boss’s boss, then hurried to do as the former said.

“You really took the piss this time, Sitwell,” Tony said.

Sitwell looked at them both, at Y/N who was trying not to cower beside the Boss To End All Bosses, and at Tony Stark, who’s eyes blazed with fury.

“I can assure you that whatever you’ve heard is a lie,” Sitwell said, eyes now stuck on Y/N. He glared at her like he had never been angrier in his entire life.

“Oh really?” Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and took a large step toward the desk. “You must have me confused with some idiot CEO, Sitwell. You think I don’t have this place surveilled? On the same floor as my security team, really?” He went forward and leaned on Sitwell’s desk like Sitwell had done to Y/N the other day. Only this time, Y/N watched in awe instead of fear. 

“You think I don’t have  _ hours _ of footage of you verbally abusing this poor girl, forcing her to work so late she’s the last one in the building besides the nightly cleaning crew? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Mr. Stark-” Y/N tried, to no avail.

He looked at her over his shoulder quickly. “No, Y/N. This’s been a long time coming.” And then, advancing once again on Sitwell, he lowered his voice. “Just because I’m a busy man doesn’t mean I won’t make the time to go back and watch every excruciating thing you’ve made this girl and the rest of your staff do and turn it back on you  _ tenfold _ . Since  _ my _ Director of Security is also on  _ my _ board, I have that ability.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Stark-” Sitwell tried.

“No, you shut the fuck up!” Tony said in an even tone, almost refusing to yell. Y/N was glad for it, at least. “All you’re hearing is me saying that this is a mark on your record, that once I leave this office, you might face a few small consequences but soon, everything will be back to normal. But I want to be crystal clear, no room for misunderstanding. You’re. Fired. Sitwell. And the second my team and I are done reviewing your tapes, expect to be served. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my building.”

Tony turned on his impeccable heel and marched out of the room. Y/N didn’t move for a split second, but then decided that following Tony Stark was a better idea than hanging out in a soon-to-be-emptied office with a man she hated. A man that had tried to knock her down every chance he’d gotten and was currently glaring at her, sweat dripping down from his bald head and around his nose.

A man who was no longer her problem.

She knew Nat was at the core of this altercation. She’d said something to Bucky, who’d said something to someone or maybe just went straight to Tony himself. She’d never be able to thank her friend enough for saving her, even if she’d asked not to be saved the night before.

Because, when she thought about it, Nat and Bucky or whoever caused this wasn’t just saving her. If Jasper Sitwell was fired - and he was - then he could never do what he’d done to her to anyone else.

When they came back to her desk, Tony closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then he looked at her in a completely different way from the glare he’d given Sitwell.

She could’ve sworn she saw kindness and empathy in that look. Maybe a hint of regret, too.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re done in this office,” he said quietly.

For a beat, her heart stopped as she thought that Tony Stark, the Boss To End All Bosses, was firing her, too.

But then he said, “I looked into your background a little. There’s a job in P.R. opening that a mutual friend of a friend - and your resumè - says you might be perfect for. It’s creative, in a much nicer office, and all yours if you want it. There’s a sign-on bonus and a raise involved, too.”

Of course she wanted the job. Being a secretary wasn’t her life-long dream, just the only job she’d thought she was worthy of, despite her degree. Until recently, that is.

Something still held her back, though.

“Mr. Stark, I-”

“Tony.”

“I can’t just walk into a job I didn’t earn, sir. Or even apply for.”

“Please, call me Tony. And our mutual friends’ word is reliable.”

Since she didn’t know exactly what “mutual friend” he might be talking about, and since she was determined now to prove her worth, she pushed back. “You have no idea if I can even do the job. You haven’t interviewed me or anything!”

He sighed, and everyone listening to this conversation had to have seen the gears turning in his head. Tony Stark hadn’t kept his father’s company running the way he had by being bad at business, after all. Even if he was a genius scientist, he was still a genuinely talented CEO.

And one that cared, apparently. A busy man, like he’d said, but one that still came down to the Accounting office to take care of some little thing - comparatively, or at least that’s how Y/N would see it for a time.

“Fine. You’re right,” he conceded. “Take the rest of the day off, with full pay, and come in tomorrow for an interview. I’ll have my assistant email you the best times, so keep an eye out for that. Be prepared to present in front of me and my head of P.R. Clear?”

She nodded, and for the first time that day,  _ smiled _ . “Yes. Yes, thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re not gonna get the job if you don’t call me Tony. ‘S just the rules.” He shrugged as he backed up, turning quickly to the door, though not so quick that Y/N missed his smirk.

She saw it. She reveled in it.

And then she looked back at Jasper Sitwell through the glass office walls and gave him the most genuine, biggest smile she’d ever smiled.

\--

“So,” Bucky said as he strode right into Thor’s office, no questions asked. Not even by Val, who gave  _ everyone _ a hard time. “Did you hear about Accounting?”

Thor nodded. “I think everyone heard about it.”

“Right.” Bucky took a seat across from Thor, but didn’t look settled. His thumbs ran in circles over one another, and his foot bounced on the opposite bent knee. “I heard Sitwell’s secretary was offered a promotion, point-blank.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Thor finished up what he was doing on his computer, then sat back to really see his friend. His body language read all wrong, but Thor couldn’t decide what, exactly, was off.

“Tony.” Bucky shrugged. “Said she refused the offer without an interview. Something about earning her way and proving herself or somethin’ like that.”

“Sounds like a smart woman,” Thor said, completely oblivious. He wasn’t even subliminally wondering why Bucky was talking about some random secretary, just reacting to whatever the man said. “Tony can be impulsive when he’s emotional.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky whispered. Clearly, he knew  _ something _ , but it only hit Thor when he asked, “You really don’t know, do you?”

Thor stared. “Know what?”

It took Bucky a second to respond. He kept a close eye on Thor, but he breathed heavily and fiddled with his left arm - muscle tears and scar tissue beneath his jacket sleeve that would be with him til the end of his days. Messing with the arm was another one of Bucky’s tells, one that Thor was confident enough in their friendship to read well.

“What’s going on, Barnes?”

Bucky sighed. “I probably shouldn’t be the one to tell you this. Nat said she wanted to do it herself, but the line out your office the other day scared her off and-”

“Who?” Thor interrupted. “What’s this about?”

“You remember Natasha, right? The drop dead gorgeous model I’m seeing?”

Thor nodded. “‘Course. Glad to hear it’s going well.”

“Well, her roommate was Sitwell’s secretary.” Bucky’s eyebrows rose, and Thor could just tell he expected Thor to know where this was going.

But he truly didn’t. He had no clue. Not even an inkling.

“‘Are you really that dense? What- she had to be, like, the  _ only _ woman on the floor - maybe the whole god damn building - that didn’t come  _ crawling _ up here for the chance of getting you to notice her.” Bucky shook his head, dropped his leg so both feet were flat on the floor, and leaned forward. “Thor, c’mon, man. Get with it, I mean this is so obvious! I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you-”

“And yet,” Thor interrupted again, “I’d like for you to get to the point anyway,  _ James _ .”

That name was only used, in reference to Bucky, when his friends were tired of games. Thor wasn’t so much tired as he was perplexed and a little frustrated, but it was enough. The effect was the same.

“The girl with the interview - the only woman that didn’t come to claim the mask - is the one you’re looking for, dude. Nat’s roommate was Sitwell’s secretary, who was the only other person left on the floor the night you got on the elevator with a woman you didn’t know. I know for a fact she’s the girl you danced with at the gala, despite never having seen her, because their other roommate needed the dress she was wearing at the gala. Nat’s told me everything. Made me swear I wouldn’t say anything unless it was absolutely necessary but, my god, was it  _ necessary _ .” He finished it all off with a laughing flourish, shaking his head in disbelief.

Thor sat straighter in his chair and, once more, just stared. He processed what he’d heard, tried to make sense of it all, and wondered why he hadn’t put it all together himself first. But he knew, with how little information he had on his Elevator Crush, he couldn’t have done it anyway.

Bucky’s girl was, apparently, the key. But he had to be sure.

“Bucky, did Natasha say how she knows all of this?” he asked.

“I assume Y/N told her.”

_ Y/N _ . Well, he finally had a name. He’d deal with the fact that he’d gotten it from Bucky before he’d gotten it from her later.

“But she… She never came. She didn’t even email me back about the mask, not even to say she didn’t want it.”

“Again, probably shouldn’t be saying anything but Nat thinks she’s scared.” Bucky picked up a pen off Thor’s desk, just to tap it against the nameplate that faced him. “Tony gave her the rest of the day off, so she’s gone home by now.” He smirked, tapped the pen once more, then put it down again. “But lucky for you, I happen to know her roommate pretty well.”

\--

She was in her room organizing the things she’d brought home from her  _ former _ desk when someone knocked on the door. Too engrossed in her work to get it herself, she yelled out for Nat since she knew at least one of her two roommates was home.

The day didn’t feel real. She’d had every intention of going into work with a job and coming out as a quitter, had never even fathomed that what had happened today was possible.

An interview? With Mr. Stark -  _ Tony _ \- himself? For a job he was ready to give her on sight, no questions asked?

She never would have accepted the position without a proper interview, but she did at least appreciate the thought. She’d appreciate it more when she had the chance to prove that she was worthy, when she could put herself on display for her new potential bosses and  _ earn _ their respect with just her own two hands and intellect.

Which meant she had a lot to prepare for the next morning. She’d picked the earliest interview possible, so she might have the rest of the day for training or a celebratory walk through Central Park. It’d been so long since she’d had time and energy to explore the park, and even though it was starting to get cold out, she nearly convinced herself to go see it now.

But Nat called her name, which meant the park would have to wait. She wondered if her roommate had ordered lunch and forgot cash for a tip or something, so she picked up her purse to fish her wallet out before heading down the short hallway into the living room.

The whole world stopped then. Or at least it felt like it did.

Two men stood by the door - one of them had to be Bucky, if Y/N was guessing by the way he held Nat close to him. He smiled vaguely at her and sent a polite nod in her direction.

It was really the other man that made her stop, though. Tall and handsome, broad shouldered and bright eyed. Just like she remembered him. She couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she’d seen him in person, especially not with the way he was looking at her.

Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

She just barely heard Nat clear her throat and announce that she and Bucky were leaving before they did. And then she and Thor were left alone.

Before she knew what she was saying, she let out, “You-you’re here.”

That seemed to break some of the tension between them. Thor went to step further into the apartment before he realized it wasn’t his space, so he backtracked. Y/N hardly noticed, since her eyes were glued to his face.

  
“I, uh, came to return this,” he said. One hand dipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, but Y/N didn’t look until he pulled something out.

Her mask. She’d all but forgotten about the thing by then, even though she’d gotten in that line the other day in an attempt to retrieve it. The mask had never been important, not even when she’d looked at that line, despite what she’d told herself.

In that moment, she knew she’d gotten in that line just to talk to him. To find out who he really was, even though Nat and Thor himself had already told her. She should have stayed, but she didn’t know it until this moment.

A moment where the past didn’t really matter anyway because there he was, standing in  _ her _ living room. He was there for her, and she just knew it.

She approached him, accepting the mask even though it wasn’t important. “Thank you,” she whispered, surprising herself as her nerves kicked in. The only time she’d been nervous around him before was on that elevator. Now seemed a rather arbitrary time to feel that way again.

He didn’t move. Neither did she. They looked at one another and, clearly, could see the same battle in the other’s eyes. They each fought for what to say next, what to  _ do _ next. This situation was unprecedented for them both.

Thor pushed through a lump in his throat and said, “Actually, that’s not why I came.” He made sure to keep eye contact strong, but not intimidating. Honestly, he liked looking at her more than anything, and he wanted to read her reaction to what he said next. “I’m Thor, and I didn’t really know how else to find you. This was Bucky’s idea, really. Well, no, the mask was my mother’s idea- and now that I say it, I realize how embarrassing that is.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, no. That’s...cute.”

His smile widened at her approval. His fingers rested just beneath hers, because as much as he was confident in what he was saying, he was still cautious. After all, she had run away from him twice now.

“But I needed to know, one way or another, who you were. Why I kept being pushed toward you. And you didn’t even answer my email so I’d all but given up, and then in storms Bucky looking like he knows every secret about you and-” He sighed. Bucky clearly  _ hadn’t _ known that much about Y/N, but that didn’t stop him from feeling...well. Jealous. “I had to know.”

Her mind immediately screams  _ I’m no one _ .

Jasper Sitwell had not been the first person in her life to say so. Her stepmother had done just as much damage, usually when her father hadn’t been around to protect her. 

But she had removed herself from her stepmother’s clutches, and she’d proved to be a bigger person than Jasper Sitwell. She’d gotten herself an interview for a better job and suddenly had the opportunity to make something of herself-

So no. She was not no one, not nothing. Thor being in her apartment only made her think he saw something like that, too.

“I’m Y/N,” she said, placing the mask on one of the end tables with her equally useless wallet. “And up until recently, I didn’t think that meant anything. But I was wrong.” A surge of confidence boosted her, and she grabbed one of Thor’s hands between hers. “I don’t know you well, Thor, but I’m pretty sure you’ve gotten this far by thinking I was worth something. I’d really like to thank you for that.”

\--

SIX MONTHS LATER

The town car was parked at the end of the row, with only a handful of empty cars that were situated at least seven spots away. The party had already started, which meant they were not likely to be disturbed, at least not for a little while.

That was the thought process Thor had used to seduce Y/N into the back of the car - the  _ rented _ car - where he now pinned her body to the seat with his own. There was barely space enough to breathe, especially given how electric their kiss was. And how sweltering the New York summer was around them. But neither had power over the connection, so they succumbed to it, drank in the energy and tension and let it wash all thoughts of a posh and somewhat unnecessary summer solstice party away.

Thor knew that, eventually, they would have to go back in. This was his mother’s party, one she threw every year. It was the first time he was bringing Y/N to an  _ official _ family function, and he was...nervous. Actually, really nervous. She’d already met his parents but Hela and Loki were in that building, and they’d somehow evaded them both before sneaking back out to the car.

His solution to those nerves was to keep her to himself for as long as he could. She calmed him down while simultaneously riling him up. She kept him grounded even when he felt like he was flying.

It’d only been 6 months since they’d finally, officially started seeing each other but he was sure he loved her. It wasn’t so much that knowledge that put him on edge, but the idea that showing up together tonight meant that everyone else would know how important she was to him. Even his siblings.

But when he really thought about that, the nerves melted. Some totally normal feeling settled, and he felt...content.

One of his hands attempted to run up one of her legs beneath her heavy, pale blue velvet gown, but she stopped him and pulled her lips back from his. The look in her eyes was playful, but she shook her head.

“We’ll spoil the whole evening like that,” she whispered, chest rising to meet his quickly as she tried to reign in her breathing.

“Screw the evening,” he retorted, attempting to dive back into the kiss.

Her free hand stopped him by his shoulder. “I did not fight with the zipper on this dress and spend two hours doing my makeup and hair to have you mess it all up in the back of this car, Thor Odinson.” She tapped his shoulder, disguised as a meaningless slap, and he relented.

“Fiiine,” he whined, head slumping against her shoulder. “But the second either of us is bored, we’re out. Deal?”

She giggled and ran her fingers through his freshly cut hair. “I’d say that’s fair. Deal.”

“In the meantime,” he murmured, kissing up her neck and along her jawline, “if I keep my hands here,” as he pressed his fingers into her waist  _ above _ the velvet dress, “can we stay like this for...five more minutes?”

Their eyes met just as she was rolling hers. He kissed her, knowing he’d gotten his way.

“Five minutes, no more.”

He kissed her quickly.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Not my fault you’re irresistible.” A quick peck. “Absolutely ravishing in this dress.” A longer, more meaningful kiss this time. 

“Hey Jarvis,” she called out into the empty cab of the car. When the familiar voice responded, she told it, “Set an alarm for five minutes, and lock the doors until it goes off.”

Thor shook his head, ignored Jarvis’s response, and went right back into the kiss.


End file.
